


Just Tonight

by snewvilliurs



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snewvilliurs/pseuds/snewvilliurs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Semi-real world!AU.  When Lebreau and Rygdea are two free spirits that come together at the strangest, and perhaps the loneliest of moments, it all starts with his guitar and his voice at a train station.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meguhime](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=meguhime).



> Audio mixes based on this story for ambience: [here](http://8tracks.com/meguhime/just-tonight) & [here](http://8tracks.com/snewvilliurs/just-tonight-b-sides). ❤

When Lebreau had seen him for the first time, he had been playing guitar and singing just outside the train station. Contrary to what she was used to seeing, his guitar case wasn’t open at his feet, nor a hat, or anything for passersby to drop coins into—he was just playing for the fun of it, and it drew up a feeling inside her that she wasn’t used to; he seemed to be having so much fun just being there, having people hear him, that he needed no recognition at all. His voice was special, too; smooth and suave, but rugged and charming just like the rest of him, and she stopped on her way to work to listen to him, standing a few feet away.

He smiled at her, nodded, and kept on singing his carefree melody, though it did have a tinge that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. When he was finished, she approached him carefully, and he began packing up his things.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, the smile still playing on his lips. At the term of endearment, she was ready to leap to snapping at him and abandoning her attempt, but then she realized that the usual condescending tone that men used when they gave her pet names despite being complete strangers to her was missing. Instead, there was something friendly, maybe even warm in the way it came so naturally to him. “Not often I get an actual audience. You enjoy it?”

She nodded. “Not often you see musicians playing just for the fun of it.”

“Well, I’m single, I already have a good pay and too much free time, and I like music. Just fun to come out and see people instead of strumming my guitar alone at my place,” he smiled.

“Mm, I see,” she said, pressing her lips together in an almost secretive smile. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t want to do it for some extra money?"

“Depends what you got in mind when you’re saying that.”

“Well, I own a bar just down the block here,” she said as she pointed in the direction of her place, “and there was a small stage built in for musicians and stuff when I bought it, but I never hired anyone because I didn’t have the money. Now I do, and I’m kinda running out of CDs to play, but I wouldn’t hire anyone just yet because I wanted to find the perfect sound, you know?”

His smile grew, showing itself to be even more pleasant at her words. “A bar, huh? You headed there now?”

“Yeah, I am. Do I take that as you being interested and wanting to check out the place?”

“Maybe,” he answered in a playful tone, slinging the strap of his guitar case over his shoulder and across his chest. He nodded for her to lead the way, lit a cigarette, and followed her the short distance to the bar, the smile returning to his lips once he was inside. “Nice, I like it. Kinda honky-tonk.”

She chuckled, running a hand over the bar top fondly. “In a good way, I hope?”

“Darlin’, look at me. Of course honky-tonk is a good thing if I’m sayin’ it,” he chuckled, going over to the low stage and scuffing his shoes over its surface, as if trying to get accustomed to it. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I’m your man. But, here’s the deal—I don’t want a salary. Just free drinks. That cool with you?”

“As long as you don’t drink more than I would’ve paid you,” she said with a laugh, extending her hand towards him. “Welcome to the team. I’m Lebreau."

“Rygdea,” he said, and shook her hand warmly. “I swear I’m not going to drink you into bankruptcy.”

When they broke the handshake, she was almost certain that she could feel her skin tingle, and a chill running up her spine. But she just smiled and got him a drink to celebrate.

* * *

When she heard him coming in through the back, she immediately took out a water bottle and poured a glass of scotch, neat, leaving both on the side of the bar for him to take on his way to the stage. Once he came out, he tapped the counter in greeting just as she finished with a customer, smiling as he picked up both of the drinks.

“Evenin’, sweet pea.”

“Hey, chief,” she greeted back with a small chuckle. Every night he came to play, she didn’t regret offering him the job; having him around was refreshing, both for the music and his attitude. He was always laid-back, always in a good mood, and especially, a natural-born flatterer, and always in the sweetest way possible. Though it seemed to outsiders they were dating—something she’d caught onto when the pet names had a few men backing off from their usual advances every time—they barely ever talked, but she enjoyed the atmosphere he created with her.

And he was so, so attractive. It was hard to stay relatively professional.

“So, what’s on the program tonight? Songs about lukewarm coffee, cigarettes and loneliness-induced uninspiration again?” she asked him playfully.

He played along, pointing to her with a wink as he started to head towards the stage. “You got that right.”

“Have fun!”

“You too!” he called back.

And it went on like this for several weeks still.

* * *

At the end of the night, she left out the back door with a sigh, cracking her back as she breathed in the chilly night air. As much as she loved her business, staying cooped up behind the bar all night made her feel like a caged bird at times; there was nothing like getting out and staring up at the last stars of the night before the sky became lighter for the sun to rise. At the sound of a man clearing his voice, she looked to the side, surprised to see Rygdea leaning against the wall, cigarette between his lips.

“That thing’s gonna kill you, you know. And ruin your voice, probably,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

He shrugged and looked at the cigarette as he flicked it. “I’ve done more dangerous things and I’m still alive. Besides, I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

“Right. What kind of dangerous things?”

“Y’know, I’ve been playing here at your place for weeks now, and we still don’t know each other,” he said, smiling as he jerked his chin towards her. “So, what’s your deal?”

“I asked first.”

“Just answer the question, sweet cheeks.”

“I live in a loft with four guys.”

He smirked. “How many of them’d you sleep with?”

“Almost slept with,” she corrected, feigning a guilty look as she pretended to hesitate. “Maybe I’ll make you guess which one the next time they come hang out.”

Though he seemed pleased by her answer, he didn’t dwell on it, and rapidly fired another question. “What’s the rest?"

“I dropped out of business school when I was nineteen. I wanted to do something else, but I didn’t have the money, so I broke my piggy bank and bought this place from an old friend who probably lost a lot trying to give me a price I could afford.”

“Cute story. What is it you want to do?”

This time, she didn’t answer straight away, shaking her head and pressing her lips together. She was almost absolutely certain he would laugh, or at least tease her; after a while, she’d caught on that it was one of his favourite things to do with people like her. He had this air about him that was both a little bit too arrogant, but also his own kind of joker—and he never crossed any lines when he was certain of the boundaries.

“Culinary arts,” she finally admitted, stepping over her pride. Much to her surprise, he didn’t say a word and only smiled, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He knew what she was about to ask. “What about you? What’s your deal?”

“I’m on leave right now,” he said, nodding a few times as if to swing himself into a sort of rhythm. “Military.”

She nodded as well, tilting her head slightly. “Weird, wouldn’t have pegged you for a soldier. Well, I’m not sure what I would’ve pegged you as, actually, so I guess that’s that. What are you on leave for?”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, which made her frown, but then gave a small smile. “Nothing too dramatic. The last mission I was in got pretty big, I had a minor injury, and they needed to do damage control so I didn’t end up shaking and crying in a corner in a few months. So I got the year off and not much to do.”

Given the look in his eyes as he flicked the ashes off his cigarette, she let go of the subject, only nodding in acknowledgement. She looked up at the sky again and noticed it had already gotten considerably lighter since she had left the bar, the light of dawn speaking over them in hushed tones. Almost in answer, a soft breeze picked up, blowing cigarette smoke her way, and she almost instinctively brought a hand up to wave it in front of her face, a slight grimace stretching her features. When he noticed her, catching the movement out of the corner of his eye, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot with a chuckle.

“Sorry about the smoke.”

“I’ll survive,” she said lightly, shrugging.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is NSFW~! (▰˘◡˘▰)

When he finished playing, he hopped off the small stage nonchalantly and made his way over to the bar. If he usually drew people—women—to him, tonight, he was exuding charm, especially after the last song he had played. Though some of the more courageous girls were heading his way already, his leaning towards Lebreau to speak to her as he sat on a stool closed off the opportunity for conversation, at least for a moment.

“So.”

“So,” she repeated, looking up at him from the glass she was wiping. He was obviously waiting for a reaction, though he wasn’t pushing the question—it had to come from Lebreau herself, even with a little urging on his end. “That was a classy sex song. Congratulations.”

He smiled and started to tap a light beat on the countertop with his fingers. “And you sure know what a guy wants to hear.”

“True. I’m not the one who just made a bunch of dudes here pissed because they realized their girlfriends want to go home with the rugged singer guy.”

“So I’m that good?”

She reached out to place her hand over his, the erratic beating of his fingers getting on her nerves, then let go after a small pat. “Well, as a woman, I think I can safely say a few pairs of panties are a little wetter than when they came in. Just a hypothesis, but there’s nothing like a little raunchy poetry and a little guitar strummin’ to get a girl going,” she said, shaking her head at his lewd smile.

“What about yours?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she answered, putting a napkin in front of him before reaching down under the counter to pick up a glass. “Beer?”

“Can I pay for the beer this time and have you answer the question instead?”

All she did was smile and slide the drink towards him before turning away, choosing to give the other girls a chance.

* * *

The rest of set had ended an hour before closing time, but he hung around instead, sitting by himself—but never for very long—with his beer until the place had emptied out completely. Lebreau said nothing about him being there last; she considered him an employee at this point, and he was good enough company through the bore of closing alone.

“Hey, boss,” he greeted playfully as he approached the bar again. “Anything I can do to help?”

Without hesitation, she handed him a wet rag and smiled. “Be a doll and wipe down the tables, please?”

“On it.”

Once she was finished putting the bar into order, she set to rounding up the money for the night, pulling a stool from the back to sit on as she did. Rygdea was working diligently, with the discipline of a working officer, sometimes looking up at her while trying to find the proper wording for his thoughts. It wasn’t like him to be at a loss for words, or hesitant when speaking to women, but to him, Lebreau was scarier than a landmine when it came to speaking the way he usually would.

“It was about you, you know. That song.”

She looked up, arching an eyebrow at him. “Which one? You played for over two hours.”

“You know the one,” he pressed. His tone had grown just slightly more serious—not so much that it made things uncomfortable, but enough so that she knew playing innocent was a little out of fashion at this point.

“Me, huh?” she asked, tapping her cheek with the pencil before standing, twisting her hair up into a bun and sticking the pencil through it. A few stray hairs didn’t catch on and fell down, framing her face lightly, but she paid no mind to them. It was already a weight off her neck, a relief now that she was becoming very aware of how warm it was inside. (But maybe that was just him.) She rounded the bar and went to open the front door, keeping it from closing with a brick. “I had no idea.”

When she straightened up and turned around, he was standing only a few inches from her, hands in his pockets. “Maybe I should’ve squeezed in a line about how the way we’ve been dancing around each other is killin’ me so that you could guess better.”

“That so bad?” she asked softly, arching an eyebrow at him as she tried not to smile.

“Nah, not really. I just think that we’ve both been hoping the other would make a move,” he said, a small smirk on his face. “Been wanting to have you since day one, but I do like the buildup.”

She hummed in agreement, then finally let herself smile as she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. Their lips came together after just a short pause when they were inches apart, first slow as they tested the waters, but quickly growing more heated. She gripped his arms tightly as his came to her waist, bringing her as close to him as possible. When she left out a soft sigh, he gently tilted her chin up to press kisses over her neck, and it was then that she started to move her hands down his torso, lightly running her blunt nails over the front of his shirt.

Smirking, she fisted the fabric at his shoulders and pushed him against the wall, laughing and kissing him again when his head knocked against it.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” she said against his lips, tugging at his belt as a matter of apology. When she did, he took the liberty of slipping his hands under her shirt, lightly running his fingers up her skin until he could cup her breasts. He caught her sigh with his lips, trying not to let his hips jerk when she unbuttoned his jeans and pushed her hand past the waistband of his boxers. Her fingers were sneaky, light and playful with teasing gestures that made his breath just a bit quicker.

He let her play with him until he could barely think straight, grabbing her wrists to get her hands out of his pants. When she lifted an inquisitive eyebrow and stole a kiss, he only smirked and returned the favour of unbuttoning her jeans, tugging them down to her thighs with deliberate touches of his fingers against her skin. She pushed her hands up his shirt just as his own pushed down her panties, all her movements halting with a tremble when he easily slipped a finger inside her.

“Well, looks like I got my answer,” he said, voice low as he pushed himself off the wall to brush his lips over her jaw, though they were drawn into a smirk.

Her nails dug into the skin of his abdomen when he started to move his finger, wasting no time in adding another. Though she spent so much of her time being in control, both of herself and the situations she was in, he could almost feel her unraveling against him until neither was in control, leaving it into the hands of the situation. Her every quiet, tiny gasp had a quality that was almost fascinating to him, and he did everything he could to let it escalate, adding strokes of his thumb over her until she was so completely consumed that she was absolutely incapable of reciprocating.

Soon, Lebreau’s entire body was shaking, fingers digging into his lower back as her gasps turned into moans, and he used his free hand to pull her in for a kiss just as she started to come down from the high. Having her so close made his head swim and he could feel himself growing needier by the second, and he pulled away to whisper in her ear.

“God, I want you so much.”

The sound of his voice, even deeper and more suave than usual, sent shivers down her spine. Though her legs were already feeling shaky, she felt her knees go a little weaker for a moment, and she composed herself by giving him a smirk and pulling off her shirt. Her fingers curled around the collar of his shirt as she kissed him again, walking backwards towards the nearest table, her fingers deftly starting to work the buttons. He caught on quickly enough and let her pull down his pants and boxers as far as she could before lifting her up onto the table, taking off her jeans. When she lay back onto the table, he bent down to kiss her ribs as he slowly pulled down her underwear.

“Wait, wait, please tell me you have protection,” she said, a little breathless, putting a hand on his chest to stop him when he leaned forward to kiss her with a hand on each of her thighs.

“Damn it, yeah, I do—”

“Sounds to me like you planned this,” she said, managing a slightly mocking tone.

Even as he chuckled along with her, his lewd grin gave him away. “I won’t answer unless in the presence of my attorney.”

The joke did little to lower the tension at this point, and it took almost an acrobatic feat with how little control he had over his hands before he was wrapping his arms around her again. When his hands slid up over her knees to part her thighs, she pulled him in for a deep kiss, her whole body arching up against him with a shiver when he pushed inside of her.

All the rest was a haze, and a blissful one at that; he was surprisingly thoughtful, for a man she barely knew, and she was coming a second time before he even finished—though it didn’t take too long for him to join her. He ran a hand from her hip and over her stomach as he kissed her again, smiling as her skin jumped under his light touch before moving away from her.

“That’s gotta be unsanitary,” he said in a light tone when she sat up, zipping up his pants before handing her her own.

She smiled and moved her bra strap back onto her shoulder where it had fallen down. “These tables have seen worse, trust me. Nothing a little cleaner can’t fix.”

He laughed along with her, the both of them finally catching their breath, and she hopped off the table once she was completely dressed. She made sure to clean off the table thoroughly, and when she returned from putting back the rag and bottle of cleaner, he took her wrist and kissed her again. He pulled away, almost with a jump when she slid her hands down his chest and over his belt.

“We just got dressed,” he chuckled, pushing her hands away, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

“Fine. Go back to my place, then?”

“You’re not gonna have to ask twice.”

In her bed, they took the time to map out each other’s bodies, hands and tongues even more curious than the first time, until the sun had risen and she was too tired to keep her eyes open. It had been a long shift, enough alone to have her crashing into bed when she came home, and he was worn out as well—though sleep came quickly, he awoke only an hour later, staring up at the ceiling blankly.

He was careful getting out of bed as not to wake her up, putting on his boxers as quietly as he could before slipping out of the bedroom, only to come face to face with Yuj.

“Oh. Uh—hey.”

“Morning,” Yuj smiled, pointing to the closed door of her bedroom. “You’re the singer from the bar, right?”

Rygdea gave him a surprised look. “She talked about me?”

“She mentioned you once or twice. You just fit the description. I’m Yuj.”

“Rygdea,” he said with a nod, extending his hand for Yuj to shake.

He shook his head, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, we don’t shake hands with overnight guests when they come out of a bedroom unless we’ve seen them wash their hands. Loft policy.”

Rygdea chuckled as quietly as he could. “Makes sense. Um, is it okay if I get myself a glass of water? I’ll wash my hands first, promise.”

“Sure, make yourself at home. I’m gonna make coffee, you want some?”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Rygdea nodded, following Yuj into the kitchen. As promised, he washed his hands first, then poured himself a glass of water before going to sit at the counter.

“Think we’re gonna be seeing you again around here?” Yuj asked as he started to make the coffee, glancing over his shoulder at him. “I mean, let’s be honest here. I’m not going to beat you or anything if you say it was just a one-time thing, it wouldn’t be her first time.”

“Well, aren’t ya straightforward,” Rygdea commented with a small chuckle, rubbing his forehead. “We haven’t really had the time to talk about it since she, uh, passed out as soon as we were done, so it depends on her, but…I wouldn’t mind coming back here, yeah.”

“Oh, good. Although, not the right answer if you wanted to avoid the interrogation. So, what is it that you do?”

“I’m a captain in the military. Wide-Area Response Brigade, to be more precise. But I’m on leave right now.”

“Guardian Corps, cool,” Yuj said, nodding. He gave him the first cup of coffee, putting the milk and sugar in front of him on the table. “I work in fashion. See, two-way street, not too painful, right? How old are you?”

Rygdea hesitated for a moment, looking like it was painful to be about to admit it. “Thirty-two?”

“I knew it. Age differences turn her on. And ten years, that’s a nice number.”

Just as Yuj was finishing his sentence, Gadot came into the kitchen looking disheveled, his eyes barely open as he pointed to Rygdea, then to Yuj. “You?”

“Lebreau.”

“Cool,” he muttered without much energy, putting his mouth just under the faucet and drinking a few gulps before walking right back to his room. Smiling knowingly, Yuj took a sip of his own coffee. “That was Gadot. It’s way too early for him.”

Maqui padded into the kitchen next, followed closely by Snow, and wrinkled his nose. “Smells like sex.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go take a shower as soon as I’m done with my coffee,” Rygdea said, hiding his face in his hands momentarily.

Snow snorted. “Welcome to the loft.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, well, well,” Rygdea said with a smirk as he slid onto a stool at the bar, away from the table where he had just been sitting with Lebreau’s friends, tapping his chin with a finger.

Though she knew exactly what he had come to her for, all she did was arch an eyebrow at him while wiping down the bar. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want, hot stuff. How ‘bout we play that game now?”

“I’m waiting for your guesses,” she said, placing her hands on the counter as she glanced over at her friends.

“Make it one guess. And not so much a guess, because I’m actually an ace detective. Here goes: Yujie here made it clear he’s gayer than the rainbow itself, and I wouldn’t see the kind of ‘hey, I’m questioning my sexuality so I might as well try to nail my only female roommate’ scenario playin’ out; Maqui’s more or less like your kid, so he’s out; and Snow’s so busy making you his bro and being in lesbians with his girlfriend that I think he’s missing the fact that he’s livin’ with a total bombshell. So. That only leaves one.”

She shook her head slowly, not in disagreement—there was a knowing smile on her face, and he quickly grinned in return. “Well, you’re good.”

“I knew it,” he said, drumming his hands over the counter in victory. “So, what do I get?”

“Last I remember, it wasn’t a bet,” she said pointedly, giving him a playfully bold look.

“Aw, come on, I should at least get something as a reward for my deductive skills. I’m only a poor little soldier, all I’m supposed to be good for is having a lot of testosterone,” he said, even trying a pout.

She rolled her eyes, still smiling, before leaning forward and making sure he had a nice enough view. “Just go back to the table and we’ll see about your poor little soldier soul later.”

He winked, and was about to turn around to go back when she said his name. “Hey. I just wanted to say—thanks for hanging with my friends. I mean, we’re just—we’re not—”

“Don’t mention it, cupcake. They’re a great change from my military buddies.”

She smiled and nodded, going back to her work as he headed back to the guys, welcomed among them just as if he had always been a part of them.

A beer and a half later, he was heading back to the bar to get another round for the table when he noticed a customer getting too close to Lebreau for comfort, even with the counter separating them—and when he came closer to them, the words coming out of his mouth had him narrowing his eyes.

“Listen, just pay for your drink and walk away if you don’t want my fist up your ba—” Lebreau was starting to say in a cold tone, interrupted by Rygdea pulling the man off the stool by his collar and punching him, catching him completely off guard.

“If you act like a dog and can’t talk to a woman like a proper human being, I’m gonna fucking treat you like a dog!”

“Rygdea!”

It took both Snow and Gadot to pull the two off each other once the man had regained an ounce of control in the situation and retaliated, and the next thing he knew, Lebreau was gripping his wrist tightly and dragging him into the back.

“Hey, sweetheart, I know that kind of stuff looks hot but you don’t have to grab me so hard,” he said, losing his balance when she pushed him down to sit on a stack of bottle crates. He hadn’t even opened his mouth to speak again when she slapped him hard across the face. “Ow! What the hell was that for? I just got punched in the face!”

Though she hadn’t been planning it, the words had her slapping him again before she could think it through. This time, it was enough to put him back in his place, especially when he looked up at her and saw the anger in her eyes as she pointed a finger at him menacingly. “Don’t ever do this to me again. I am not your property, and I’m certainly not yours to defend or protect. Do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he muttered, lightly placing a hand over the burning skin of his cheek. “You know, from the looks of it, I wasn’t defending you. I was protecting him from the much worse beating he would have gotten from you.”

“Do you want me to beat _you_ instead?”

“No.”

“Then don’t try to play it cool like a smartass.” She walked to the door and then, her hand on the knob, turned back to him, almost as an afterthought. “You know, that guy might have been disgusting, demeaning and insulting, but you’re the one who acted like a dog thinking you had a territory to pee all over. And now, I’m going to go clean up your mess and try to get him not to press charges. Ask Yuj for ice to put on your face, as long as I don’t have to see it again tonight.”

* * *

When Rygdea came out of the back room, the bar had emptied almost completely, and Lebreau’s friends were starting to close up. Snow was the first he approached, rubbing his arm with a sheepish look on his face.

“Where’s Lebreau?”

“Maqui took her home to cool down,” he said, patting him on the shoulder before going to take the trash out. Rygdea nodded, mostly to himself, then went to sit at the bar to ask Yuj for ice, as she’d indicated.

Gadot came to stand next to him, leaning over the counter. “You ever make water boil in a pot?”

Rygdea gave him a confused look, though most of its effect was dimmed by the towel full of ice cubes he was pressing to half of his face. “Yeah, of course.”

“You know how you’ll just leave it there because it always takes a while? For so long, nothing at all happens, then it starts to simmer—and soon enough, it’s boiling like crazy, and before you know it starts to overflow and you’ve got a mess all over the stove. Well, Lebreau’s like that.”

“That’s a shitty metaphor,” Yuj piped in.

“Shut up, toilet cleaner hair,” he replied, waving a hand at him before turning back to Rygdea. “Either way, that’s really how she is. But if you take off the lid and turn down the heat, it’ll stop overflowing and boiling. That’s why Maq went back home with her. Come tomorrow, she’ll already be more approachable. Well, for us. You, maybe a little more time. Just don’t do somethin’ like that again.”

Yuj shrugged. “If you go down on her long enough she’ll forgive you a lot easier.”

Snow, who was just coming back in as Yuj spoke, let out a nervous laugh as he dove straight back for the door. “Nope.”

* * *

Though the guys had tried to reassure Rygdea back at the bar, they didn’t see him for three days, neither there or at the loft.

“Has he called you?” Gadot had asked, nudging Lebreau’s shoulder gently.

“Why would he? It’s not like we’re dating.”

Yuj had looked more than surprised then, pricking himself with the needle he had been using to stitch the strap of Maqui’s bag, which was on the verge of falling apart. “You’re not?”

“Of course not! We’re just sleeping together. Since when do I do the boyfriend thing? I don’t need anyone to take care of me or like me or anything.”

“Does he know you’re not dating? Cause it seemed to me like—”

“We talked about it not even an hour before he tried to beat that guy up. And I don’t remember him having any memory problems, so I have no doubt that he’s aware of it too.”

They’d chosen not to get her to speak more of the matter, seeing as how categorical she had been. And for the next few days, they didn’t speak of him until he came around the loft in the afternoon, pounding on the door and yelling her name. It was Snow who went to answer the door, only to be met with the strong smell of liquor and the sight of a very dishevelled Rygdea.

“You’re not Lebreau.”

“Hey, man,” he said in a quiet voice as he pulled him inside, hoping he would get the message to be quiet as well. “Lebreau’s sleeping right now, it’s her day off.”

“I know it is, I was just at the bar,” Rygdea slurred. Snow grabbed his arm when he made to walk towards her room—it would be a miracle if the pounding hadn’t woke her up, but on the off-chance that she was still sleeping, it was better to keep him as far away as possible. “Lebreau! Wake up, sunshine, I need to talk to you.”

“Let’s just go take a walk until she wakes up, huh, buddy? How about that? It should be soon, and some fresh air might do you good.”

“I walked here, I have enough fre—hey, look at that, sugar lips is up!”

Lebreau stood in the doorway of her bedroom, looking as groggy and slightly murderous as she always did when she was woken up too early on her the day off. When Snow gave her an apologetic look, she shook her head slightly, knowing he had tried his hardest to let her sleep. Before she could ask, he went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, which she took with a nod and a thankful smile before pulling Rygdea into her room and closing the door.

“Hell, lookin’ sexy even when you’re not trying,” he commented with a lazy smile after taking in the sight of the lace panties and oversized, off the shoulder shirt she wore to bed.

She rolled her eyes and sat him down on the bed, forcing the glass in his hands. “What do you want, Rygdea?”

“I came to apologize for my rude alpha male actions.”

“Couldn’t you do that not piss drunk and without waking me up?”

“No, see, there’s an explanation to that,” he said, raising a finger before taking a small sip of water. “So I had a nightmare, right? And I wanted you to comfort me, so I went to apologize and then have you comfort me, but you weren’t there, so I had the bottle comfort me, and now I’m apologizing. Just had to mix things up a little.”

She nodded, sitting down next to him. “Alright.”

“That’s it?”

She shrugged. “Well, what else do you want me to say? You messed up, I got mad, you’re apologizing, I’m letting you off the hook. Even if we went into a meaningful conversation, you wouldn’t even remember tomorrow, so I’d rather just go back to sleep.”

When she lay down on the bed as if he hadn’t been there at all, he gave her a surprised look then set down the glass on the nightstand to lie down as well, snaking an arm around her waist as he pressed closer.

“Yujie said you’d forgive me easier if I went down on you long enough,” he muttered, lazily dotting kisses along her neck. She pushed his face away.

“Not drunk like that you won’t. Let me sleep.”

“Mmf.”

He remained quiet long enough for her to start dozing off again despite the added weight of his body leaning against hers, but just as she was beginning to truly fall asleep, she heard his voice, quiet, and his words still slurred but hesitant.

“I think I’m starting to fall for you. Heh, I was hopin’ not to. But you’re...you’re just...” Taking a deep breath, as if trying to gather courage, he tightened his arm around her and pulled her close to bury his face in her neck. His next words were both too slurred and too quiet for her to understand, and instead of trying to, she pretended to be fully asleep and that she had heard nothing at all.

Even once he started snoring against her, her eyes were still wide open, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

She was terrified.


	4. Chapter 4

When Rygdea woke up, he was sprawled across Lebreau’s bed, empty save for him. But the first thing he really did notice was the heavy pounding in his skull, the nauseating feeling that seemed to linger from the bottom of his throat, and his mouth dryer than the desert. He lifted himself up with a groan, holding his head with one hand as he reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and drank it all in one go.

He wobbled out of her room with the sole intention of getting more water to drink, only to run into Snow when he came into the kitchen. He groaned again, vaguely remembering his towering frame trying to hold him back from going to wake up Lebreau when he had come over earlier, and it was partly in greeting, partly with the feeling that he was about to get a good scolding.

“Evening, drunky,” Snow said, giving him a shit-eating grin from where he was bending to look into the fridge, one hand on the door. “How about that walk now? You look like you need some fresh air even more now.”

“Just let me drink everything first.”

“Haven’t you done that already?”

Rygdea produced the most menacing glare he could manage in his state, and resorted to drinking straight from the faucet. “Ha ha, very funny, big guy. You’re a comedian.”

“Lebreau’s words, not mine,” Snow replied with a shrug as he began to eat a leftover sub, not even bothering to sit down. He had inhaled the entire thing by the time Rygdea had quenched his thirst, and soon pulled him out of the building to go walk around the block.

Rygdea hesitated for a moment before speaking up. “Do I want to know where she went?”

“About as much as I want to know what the hell you said to her in there, I bet.” He paused, slowing down his steps to better look at Rygdea. “Alright, I didn’t want to do this. But there’s just one thing I gotta say. I’ve stopped caring about what Lebreau does in her bedroom a long time ago already—she can get pretty...well, wild, and all that stuff gets beyond me. But I do care about her. If I could follow what’s going on, maybe I’d react differently, but...listen, man. Don’t mess with her, okay? She deserves so much better than to get hurt by whatever you told her in there, drunk off your ass or not, and—”

Rygdea frowned and stopped walking altogether, putting a hand in front of Snow to make him stop as well. “Wait. You think I’m messin’ with her? I’m pretty sure that what I told her in there is that I’m falling in love with her. And I don’t like her just a little bit. Yeah! I’m the sucker who fell for the girl he was having casual sex with, and it’s gotten to this point where all I can write about is her, and even though I have nightmares every night, I’ve started sleeping of my own accord again just because I might dream about her. But I’m a giant dumbass for it, because I know she’s never going to feel the same because she’s so much better than that, and I’ve even got her thinkin’ I’m some douchebag who thinks she’s my property. Hurting her is the last thing on my mind. I’m just an idiot, Snow.”

After a pause where he visibly processed all the information he’d been given, Snow spoke up again, a thoughtful look on his face. “You’re not an idiot.”

Rygdea only chuckled without much energy in response, not at all convinced by his words. The hard clap Snow delivered to his back only made his head pound with ridiculous force again.

* * *

Rygdea returned to the loft with Snow with the promise of some of Lebreau’s best hangover cures sitting in the fridge, and they both found her sitting in the living room, painting her nails as she sang softly to herself. He was surprised to hear her voice like this; his curiosity to know what she might sound like had him thinking her singing voice would be much like she was: clear, strong and assertive. But instead, it had a quality that he could only identify as innocent, maybe even vulnerable, and the breathy tones of her falsetto had him feeling like his heart had dropped to the bottom of his stomach.

It was disappointing to hear her stop when she caught sight of him. Hesitantly, she smiled, and it was only then that he went to sit next to her, though he kept a bit more distance between them than he usually would have, even as Snow left them to go into the kitchen.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, keeping her eyes focused on the orange polish she was applying to her nails.

“Little more sober. Wouldn’t drive or handle fire and knives, and my head is killin’ me, but it’s a start.”

She nodded. “Right.”

“Hey, um,” he started unconfidently, deciding on a whim to pretend he remembered much less of the last few hours than he really did. “Snow told me he was worried when he saw you leave, so whatever I said earlier, I’m sorry. I probably didn’t mean it.”

And she went along with it. “It’s fine. All you did was apologize for the other night, which I think was pretty honest of you. I just couldn’t fall back asleep and you were snoring, so I decided not to wake you and go get something to eat. No harm, no foul. You didn’t say anything stupid.”

It stung a bit, to know she was pretending he hadn’t confessed his feelings to her. He was lost in thought as she stood up, blowing on her fingers, and started to walk out of the living room. It was only when she turned around and called his name that he looked up, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

“Do you have those nightmares often?”

He smiled weakly. “Sometimes.”

* * *

She shivered against him when he ran his fingers along the exposed skin at the small of her back, rocking her hips against his. She only slightly pulled her mouth away from him to catch his lower lip between her teeth lightly, letting go to kiss his jaw.

“I need to ask you a question,” she said, brushing the pads of her fingers over his neck.

“Now?”

“I live in the moment,” she smirked. “And it just popped into my head.”

“Alright,” he said with a small sigh, though he smiled up at her and fiddled with the button on her jeans. “Shoot.”

“Why haven’t we gone to your place yet?”

He frowned and pulled away slightly. “Why are you asking tha—just, it hasn’t happened.”

“Seriously, if you’re married, or if you have a girlfriend, please tell me, because we need to stop this right now. I’m not going to get in the middle of something like that.”

“Lebreau, I’m not hiding anything like that,” he said with a shake of his head and picked her up to stand and set her back down. Rubbing his forehead, he paced in front of her for a moment, growing nervous. “Okay. Look. There’s nothing in my apartment that’s weird or that I want to hide from you. But I have nightmares, literally every night now, and I’m so terrified that I sleep with a gun under my pillow. That’s why I’m on leave.”

She frowned but said nothing, her thoughts too jumbled as a sort of guilty understanding dawned upon her. They’d been spending so much time together lately, and yet she’d never expected, for even one second, that she could have been blind to so much distress. After a moment, she tried to piece back her thoughts together enough to open her mouth to speak, but he continued after taking in a deep, shaky breath.

“The reason why I don’t want you to be there is that there are way too many horror stories of guys like me strangling or beating their wives to death without waking up because they’re acting out their dreams. And I don’t want you to be anywhere near that gun, ever, so I just don’t risk it.”

Several emotions passed across her features as he spoke, eventually settling on a confused mix of compassion and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was only when she stood and slid her hand over his wrist to lace their fingers together that he realized he was shaking, belatedly returning her embrace after she had wrapped her other arm around his shoulders. She pulled away slightly and brushed her lips against his in a flitting gesture, kissing his cheek on her way to his ear.

There were no words of comfort she could find, aside from those that were begging to be let out now. The thought of even admitting it to herself had her heart pounding wildly and fear seizing her, but at the same time, here was no holding them back now. “I think I’m falling for you, too.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Something’s changed,” Maqui piped up out of the blue, with a look on his face that reminded Lebreau of a dog that had just smelled food. The problem was that she knew exactly what he was thinking, but there was no way she would admit to anything—so her first instinct was to feign ignorance.

“I finally got Snow to change the light bulb in the corner that flickered when people talked too loud,” she answered innocently and pointed in the general direction of the aforementioned light.

Maqui gave her a look. “Don’t try to be sneaky with me, Lebreau. Out with it, before I start digging, and you know I make a mess when I dig. Remember the thing with Gadot’s—”

“Please don’t bring it up, I was just starting to get over that trauma.” When Maqui gave her an insistent look, she just leaned forward with both of her hands on the bar. “I’m not going to say anything, because even if I try to be vague, you’re gonna read me like a book, and I don’t want that.”

Just as she leaned back after flicking his forehead playfully, Rygdea came in through the back door, guitar in hand. She smiled and threw him his usual water bottle, which he tucked under his arm to take the glass of whiskey she slid towards him next. Winking to her, he raised the glass in Maqui’s direction as a matter of greeting, then made his way over to the stage to get set up. It took little more than Lebreau’s smile for everything to click in Maqui’s mind.

“Are you and Rygdea—”

She raised her eyebrow mockingly at him. “What, sleeping together?”

“Well, if you did the whole relationship thing like normal people, it would be that, but since you’re not normal...I’d say, for you, it’s the L-word stage.”

Her silence and again, feigned innocence, spoke volumes, and he lit up with excitement.

“So he’s your boyfriend now?”

“Don’t be a child, it’s more complicated than that.”

“You mean you’re making it complicated because you’re too stubborn to just let things be simple and admit that you care about someone who cares about you back? And don’t tell me I'm not right, because I know I am. You need to stop thinking being in love is scary or making you weak, Lebreau,” he said wisely, pointing a serious finger at her.

“I’m sorry, but am I really being given love advice by the twenty-year-old nerd who’s never been in an adult relationship?”

“Oof, getting personal now? That means I’m getting to you. Say what you will, but I know I’m a genius. You say it all the time when you’re not pretending to be mad at me.”

His toothy grin was getting on her nerves, but only because she hated admitting he—or any of the guys, for that matter—was right. She mixed him a drink, stabbed a straw into the ice cubes, and placed it in front of him with finality. “Just shut up and drink your cocktail, you brat.”

Just as Rygdea started to play, his voice and the sound of his guitar comfortably filling the atmosphere, Snow and Gadot walked over to the bar.

“What did the kid do now?” Snow asked, planting his hand on top of Maqui’s head to ruffle the mess of blonde hair that sat on it. The gesture had him jerking forward and jabbing the straw into the roof of his mouth just as he had started to drink, but despite that, he still raised a hand excitedly to stop Lebreau from speaking before him.

“Let me tell them!” he said quickly, bouncing on his seat to turn to Snow and Gadot. Her words of protest were drowned by his next proclamation. “She and Rygdea love each other!”

“Tell me something I don't know,” Gadot said in a bored tone, giving Lebreau a fond look as Snow called Yuj over from their table by repeating Maqui’s words. The look on his face, and the way he hurried over were enough for Lebreau to know that the news made him just as excited as Maqui was.

“So you guys are dating now?”

She grimaced. “Dates are to get acquainted with a potential partner before sleeping with them, and I’m already pretty well acquainted with him and his—”

“Please don’t say penis,” Maqui said, his face twisting with disdain as well.

“—body.”

“Ew,” he whispered anyway.

She rolled her eyes and shooed them away with a gesture of her hand, growing a little suspicious of the docile look on Yuj’s face when he pulled the other three back to their table without protest. They only came back when Rygdea took a break from playing, Yuj making his way behind the bar and pushing her towards the back room.

“Hey look, you should take your break now, you must be so tired,” he said brightly, still pushing her even when she protested. “I’ll take it from here!”

“Woah, you’re all here,” Rygdea said in a surprised tone as he sat at the bar, looking around for Lebreau. “Is she on break?”

Yuj was quick to answer him. “Yeah, you just missed her. Too bad, huh? Can I get you anything?”

“Just a beer will do, thanks.”

After a few seconds of having all four of them staring at him, he arched an eyebrow, throwing each of them a suspicious look. “Y’all being weird. What do you want?”

“You have got to take her on a real date,” Yuj said, and Rygdea’s first instinct was to look over to Snow hesitantly, who only shrugged with a small smile.

“Sorry, I gotta agree with Yuj on this. Maqui found out about her returning your feelings just now, I swear I didn’t tell them what you told me. I’m innocent.”

Rygdea chuckled and put a hand over his face for a moment, bemusedly muttering something about the four of them being horrible meddlers. But he was aware that they were her family, and he would have expected no less of the people who were the closest thing she had to brothers. “Um, okay—in all honesty, I was planning to take her, but I didn’t know when the timing would be right and I didn’t want to push her so I was just...waitin’, I guess.”

“If you just wait for her to bat her eyelashes at you so you’ll take her on a date, you’re gonna be waiting a long-ass time,” Gadot said with a chuckle, patting his shoulder. “We’ll take care of making her come around.”

Rygdea smiled, rubbing his neck to try and shrug off how flattered he was that Lebreau’s friends had accepted him so easily, even willing to help him make her happy, when they really knew so little of him. “Well, guess I just gotta get to work, then.”

* * *

Lebreau was absolutely certain that she looked as stupid as she felt. It had almost taken a shoe horn to get her chest into the dress Yuj had picked for her, and her steps were restrained by the tight skirt. On every other step she took, she could feel her ankles shaking from the stiletto heels of the ankle boots she wore. Again, it had been Yuj’s choice, and she was pretty sure there was a concept around the golden zippers on the side of her shoes and the back of her dress, but she doubted Rygdea would notice; judging from the looks she got as she got to the hotel bar he’d asked her to meet him at, those zippers were the last thing on her that attracted attention.

She was used to stares like this, and she liked choosing just the right clothes to make herself look desirable, but she had never been the type for dresses and heels. Still, she trusted Yuj, and when Rygdea’s eyes fell on her, she knew she was right to—and just then, it didn’t matter who else was staring, or how uncomfortable the outfit was. He wore the usual clean jeans and white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows he often had on the nights he played, but he’d added a skinny black tie and cleaner shoes for a bit more flair. She definitely didn’t hate it, but what he wore best was the look of complete and utter speechlessness at the sight of her.

“Lebreau,” he said as if just snapped out of a dream, sliding off the stool from where he had been sitting at the bar. “You look...I don’t think even stunning cuts it. Should I be thanking Yuj?”

She chuckled, bowing her head slightly. “Of course you should. No one else could’ve put me in heels this high.”

“Well, he was able to make you look even more amazing than usual, and that’s one hell of an accomplishment.” After a few seconds, he was shaking his head with a smile. “Sorry, I’m horrible at this.”

“I wouldn’t know, either way,” she laughed, rubbing her arm just to give herself something to do. When he noticed the gesture, he smiled as he took her hand, kissing the top of it and brushing his thumb over her knuckles before letting go. He turned to take the glass the bartender had just put down in front of him, handing it to her.

“Scotch and soda for the lady. C’mon, let’s go sit.”

She was thankful both for the alcohol and the comforting touch of his hand on the small of her back as he led her to a table, even pulling her chair for her, and the gesture had her laughing into her hand as she sat down.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve never been treated like that before. Like a lady and all.”

His eyes softened as he watched her take a drink almost demurely, not missing the change in her usually confident character, but he smiled at her gently. “Well, that’s gotta change. Cause you’re one hell of a special lady, and I don’t need the dress and the heels to know that.”

“Thanks,” she said, hiding her smile behind her glass.

She was more than halfway through her drink when he extended his hand towards her, palm up, brushing his thumb against her knuckles again when she put her hand in his. “Let’s be honest here for a second. You’re hating this, aren’t you?”

“Ah,” she said, a guilty look appearing on her face. “It’s not that I...hate it. I really appreciate how fancy this all is, and I am feeling pretty special, but it’s just not my style, you know? I’m scared I’ll do something super ridiculous and embarrass you or something.”

“Honestly, it’s not really my style either, so you couldn’t possibly embarrass me. I just knew a guy, you know how it is,” he admitted with a dismissive wave of his hand, standing up and taking her hand to help her stand as well. “Let’s bail.”

He laughed when she insisted on finishing her drink first, and pulled her close as they started to leave the hotel. “Let’s do what you feel like doing. Right here, right now.”

“I have been craving cheeseburgers since yesterday,” she suggested thoughtfully.

“Then I know just the place.”

The atmosphere between them loosened as soon as they were out of the hotel, and she, to her own surprise, started to really enjoy the feeling of their fingers intertwined as they walked. Sometimes, her pride would kick in to tell her how ridiculous she was being—but never strongly enough for it to distract her from how right it felt. Maybe it was silly, but she comforted herself by walking closer to him, laughing as they talked on their way to a burger joint just by the beach.

“I really love the sea,” she said, looking out the window as she munched on her fries once they were sitting down. “Feels like home.”

He, on the other hand, wasn’t looking out at the beach. “Yeah, really beautiful.”

When she looked back to him, it was with a disbelieving smile, shaking her head at him. “You keep saying stuff like that tonight.”

“Hey, it just comes naturally. What, you weren’t expectin’ to be dating a charmer? Please, sweetheart. You know better than that.”

“Now that’s more like it.” She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms as she looked at him with a playful smirk. “Can I ask you something?”

“Course you can, doll.”

“What’s the probability of you judging me if I put out on the first date? I hear that’s bad.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Nonexistent, so I wouldn’t worry about that.”

She winked at him and stood after she had finished first, making a show of swaying her hips as she took away her trash, glad the entire place was so deserted that he was the only one who could see it. He finished quickly after her, planting a kiss on her temple as they walked outside, only for her to grab his collar and kiss him full on the mouth.

“Let’s go say hi to the sea,” she said excitedly, taking his hand and dashing off as quickly as she could in her shoes.

When they neared the beach, she took off her heels and left them behind, trotting happily towards the sea until her feet were buried in the sand. He smiled as he watched her, glued next to the spot where she’d left her shoes, fishing his cigarettes from his pocket almost as a reflex. His hand cupped the flame of his lighter as he brought it close to the cigarette in his mouth, and then, she turned to him, smiling as she moved strands of her wind-swept hair away from where it clung to her lip gloss. The sight of her had him stopping mid-motion and, without much of a second thought, throwing the pack and lighter into the nearest trash can.

Under her questioning gaze, he took off his shoes and socks as well, jogging over to her and wrapping his arms around her waist before kissing her. There was a growing smile on his lips, and he affectionately moved her hair away from her face as he pulled away to look at her. She seemed confused, but the look on his face reassured her that everything was alright, and she didn’t bother to question just exactly what was happening.

“You know what,” he whispered, voice soft like he was afraid someone would hear—but there was little more around than the two of them, and the steady flow of the waves.

“What?”

“I didn’t even know if I would make it to the end of the year and go back to work, before I met you. But now you’re here and you’re makin’ me feel like I’ll finally be able to face myself again.”

She pulled him close, resting her forehead against his, and closed her eyes for a moment. Her fingers moved over the nape of his neck in soothing motions, and just as quietly as he had, she spoke words, just for him, that would have never passed her lips otherwise.

Maybe, in her own way, she’d saved him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [At the Risk of Secrecy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/746294) by [snewvilliurs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snewvilliurs/pseuds/snewvilliurs)




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